


Room 27

by TheTruthOfYourDespair



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Adventure, Death, F/M, Fluff, Post-Promised Day AU thing, Romance, Royai - Freeform, Royai for days, Violence, fabulous Riza is fabulous, somthing like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 09:29:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10461654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTruthOfYourDespair/pseuds/TheTruthOfYourDespair
Summary: Riza Hawkeye always looks forward to the Annual State Military Ball, where everything is glitz, glamour, and champagne.But this year, there's one little twist: complete a mission to bring the most wanted arms dealer to justice.And there's one reward: the admiration and affection of the Flame Alchemist, General Roy Mustang...





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [princess_j3ss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/princess_j3ss/gifts).



> Imagine this: it's 1am. You have a two hour chemistry exam in seven and half hours. You haven't slept because you've been on a Royai-fuelled writing extravaganza that has lasted hours and has produced 3300-ish words of fic that was based on one crappy drawing that was also made late at night. 
> 
> Well, true story. This all happened and I'm tired af. 
> 
> Anyway, this is for queenxolivier on Tumblr/princess_j3ss on AO3. Ily! 
> 
> (This is currently unedited, so ignore any mistakes!)

The annual State military ball. It was the same every year: champagne, speeches, music, dancing, chatting. Yet Riza found herself there on the same night every year, soaking up the glowing atmosphere. 

She opted to wear a stunning black split leg dress (partly on Rebecca's suggestion) and matched it with heels of the same colour, their height was small- not too high, of course, otherwise they'd be unsuitable- and a golden necklace and earrings that she adored. And Riza Hawkeye wasn't one to fawn over such vanity that came with wearing jewellery. 

Nevertheless, she looked stunning. 

"I told you it was the perfect dress, did I not?" Rebecca boasted with a smile of pride. She, too, looked gorgeous in a flowing scarlet-red dress with silver earrings to top it off. 

Both women and Jean Havoc (now finally and officially Rebecca's boyfriend) were stood amongst the crowd who were diving into the bubbles on offer. They'd grabbed glasses of champagne while they could, even though Riza decided to leave the drinks until later. 

"I've gotta say that this State ball is the best one yet," added Rebecca a while later.

"What makes you say that?" Asked Riza. 

"I don't know. Just the beauty of it all, I suppose. You know, there's no need to work and we can all relax for one night!"

"Yeah, and we certainly need it," Jean agreed, taking a sip at the champagne and screwing his face up in disgust. "Although the alcoholic beverages aren't that good."

"Oh, Jean. That's because your taste buds have been destroyed by those cancer sticks you keep inhaling," said Rebecca. "That, and the fact that you are simply just too weak to handle such an easy drink."

"Hey! That's not true!" Cried Jean with a frown. Riza laughed, saying: "you know, Havoc, she's got a point."

"Aw man," he sighed exasperatedly. "Can't I ever win when it comes to the ladies?"

"No," replied Riza and Rebecca simultaneously. This just caused them to laugh more at the poor soldier, who decided to carry on drinking the champagne anyway (just to prove that he wasn't weak). 

While Jean was being the entertainment for the night, the newly-appointed General Mustang was surrounded by several other senior generals and the Führer himself. 

Grumman had gone to great lengths to ensure that this year's ball- the first of many for him- was extravagant. And he certainly didn't disappoint. He also made an excellent show in telling jokes and anecdotes to his small group of subordinates. 

Roy stood tall and proud, listening intently to what the other generals had to say on new laws and legislations. He smiled at their frequent jokes with fulfilment, knowing he'd gone through Hell to be where he was now. He owed this night to a lot of people. 

Soon, however, the generals began to disperse into the ocean of tuxedos and ballgowns. He was left with an ever-content Grumman who adjusted the cap on his head with a knowing grin.

"I never asked you, Mustang," he began. "But what do you think of the State ball this year?"

"It's magnificent, sir," Roy responded earnestly. "The decorations are probably the best."

"Hmm. I'm glad you think so."

"Did you choose them?"

"No," Grumman chuckled. "I wish I was as creative as my granddaughter, but it must the trait have skipped my genes!"

Roy raised an eyebrow. "You mean Captain Hawkeye chose them?"

"Indeed," he said with a nod. Then a pause, followed by a serious glance coming from the older man's dark and mischievous eyes. "When are you going to marry her, Mustang?"

"I'm sure you know as well as I do that there are fraternisation laws, sir," Roy answered without letting his cheeks stain pink with embarrassment. "It's impossible."

Grumman grinned. "I'm sure I can make a few changes..."

"And I'm sure that it'll be seen as favouritism. The other officers won't even have to guess twice at why the law changed. 

"Well, the rumours I hear are quite... Interesting."

Roy's eyes widened, which didn't go unnoticed. 

The Führer guffawed, patting Roy on the shoulder. "I'm just kidding, my boy, but you'll have to excuse me for the time being; I have to find Major General Keller and speak with him about a matter."

The glance that Grumman gave Roy as he departed into the crowd was one that said 'please consider the offer on marrying my granddaughter or I'll have to kill you'. Despite acting like a young boy sometime, Führer Grumman was rather intimidating. Roy knew him better than to decide that the older man was joking because he certainly wasn't. 

When he'd left, Roy straightened out his jacket and swiftly made his way over the quietest corner of the room. Breda and Fuery were making idle chitchat, yet silenced themselves when the superior approached. 

"Any news from Falman?" Roy questioned. 

"Yes, sir," answered Breda. "He informed us that Vanzetti arrived in the hotel just five minutes ago."

"Great. And has he got tabs on him?"

"Yes, sir," came the same reply. 

Tonight wasn't all about celebrations. It was about continuing to bring down the criminal underworld that lurked under Central City. Vanzetti- an infamous arms dealer- had come back to Central for several meeting with clients and was currently at a nearby hotel. Roy and his team were incredibly close to catching the sneaky bastard, but he was sliding through their fingers, and if he wasn't caught tonight then things would be an utter wreck. 

They needed help from a certain sharpshooter. 

Roy left Breda and Fuery, pushing his way past everyone and scanning the room as he did so. He had the sudden impulse to pick up a glass of champagne and down it before continuing, yet he knew that even the smallest glass would butch up the mission. 

Eventually, he spotted Riza. She was still stood with Havoc and Rebecca, laughing and smiling (with mesmerising bright red painted lips) and talking. 

Roy tried hard not to gawk at her radiating beauty and quickly proceeded towards her, the thought of successfully capturing Vanzetti lingering on his mind. 

He failed to noticed the excited glance that Rebecca shot her friend: a look of delight at the sight of the General. 

"Evening, sir," Havoc piped up with small nod. 

"Evening, Havoc," Roy smiled. "And to you, Rebecca."

Rebecca hummed in acknowledgement. "And I suppose you're here to steal Riza and whisk her away?"

"Pretty much," he answered, turning to Riza. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, sir," she uttered, placing her almost-empty glass of champagne down onto a nearby table. She bid her goodbyes to Rebecca and Havoc, the former instantly beginning to mutter away as Roy led Riza onto the dance floor. 

"And a very good evening to you, Captain," he said, offering her his hand as a gesture to dance with him. 

Riza, of course, accepted. She placed on hand in his own and the other on his shoulder. She shivered slightly when she felt Roy's other hand rest itself upon her waist. They began to dance to the slow classical music that was being played by the orchestra, who were seated at the front of the room. Just like the good old days. 

"Likewise, General," she replied with a curteous nod. 

"You look marvellous in that dress," he admitted suavely. If not now, when? Right?

"T-Thank you. You look pretty good yourself, sir. You should wear tailcoats more often."

"You think so?"

Riza nodded. 

"Anything for you, Captain."

She rolled her eyes, a smile tugging on the corner of her lips. "And what is it that you want from me, sir?"

"What makes you think I want something from you?"

"That look in your eyes," replied Riza, staring right into them and noticing the glint that followed. "It's important, isn't it?"

To the melody of the music, Roy- the rest of the men dancing- spun their partners around. Riza twirled elegantly, her bottom half of her dress flouncing in the air behind her. She was quite hypnotic and Roy found it difficult to focus on anything but her. 

Oh, how he wanted her. He wanted to immediately accept Führer Grumman's proposal and marry her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her- the woman who stood by his side since they were teenagers- but perhaps Riza felt indifferent. Hopefully not. 

When she returned to having her hand placed on Roy's shoulder, he finally answered. 

"There's a man- Georgio Vanzetti- who's staying at the Royal Amestris hotel tonight. He's there now, and Falman's keeping an eye on him. I need your help to apprehended him."

"And who exactly is this Vanzetti?"

"Central City's most notorious crime syndicate leader and weapons dealer," Roy elaborated. "He needs bringing to justice and we can't do it without you, Captain."

Riza smirked. "I'm glad to know that I'm wanted in a time of great need. Isn't just a coincidence, General, that I brought my gun?"

Roy let out a low laugh, clearly impressed by her preparation skills. "You're brilliant."

"Thank you, sir."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Roy and Riza soon exited the ball, making sure that nobody noticed that they'd left. They walked down the street, and thankfully it was quiet tonight. It was a warm night with a clear sky, which was splattered with stars. 

The Royal Amestris hotel was only for people with hefty wages. Its lobby had a marble floor, a fountain, walls lined with artwork and ornaments, and Riza was rather stunned by it all. 

"Vanzetti is staying in Room 27, second floor," Roy told her. "He is apparently armed and has two of his bodyguards with him, one inside and one outside."

"And all I have to do is take out the bodyguards and apprehend Vanzetti?" She asked to be sure. 

He nodded. "I'll have back up here within ten to fifteen minutes; that should be sufficient enough, yes?"

"Yes, sir. And what about you?"

"I'll come back for you. I have to get Breda and Fuery first, and inform Havoc of the progress."

"Okay," mumbled Riza, standing up a little straighter. 

"Good luck, Captain. You'll be fine."

She turned and advanced towards the staircase, Roy's final words echoing in her mind. 

Her heels clicked loudly against the marble floor and she wanted to silence them, yet had no choice but to carry on regardless, concentrating on the matter in hand.

Take out the guards. Apprehend Vanzetti, she though to herself. That was easy enough. Riza was used to dealing with more difficult situations in the past and this wasn't going to faze her. 

When she got to the second floor, she passed a couple, who were also dressed in their best outfits. They smiled at her and she smiled in return. Her expression then flattened out as she neared the end of the first section of the hallway. 

Riza halted where the hallway veered to the right. She drew the gun that was strapped to the holster on her concealed thigh, gripping it firmly. For the moment, she was hidden by the shadows, but soon she'd have to advance down the corridor in the exposing light. Riza was also thankful that she made the smart decision to wear her comfortable and sensible heels that would allow her to walk at a good pace with steadiness. 

She peered around the corner. Room 24... Room 25... Room 26... Room 27. The latter was where she needed to go. Room 27 hid Central City's most notorious crime syndicate leader and arms dealer: Georgio Vanzetti. A formidable man on paper, but there was no doubt he'd be even more so in person. 

Riza swallowed hard. She felt her heart thumping inside her chest. No. She couldn't let her nerves get in the way. Not now. 

Then she noticed the burly, dark-haired man stood in front of the door. His arms were crossed, showing off the strength in his muscles. He was clad in a black suit and his almost-black eyes were fixated on a particular spot on the opposite wall, but they occasionally flickered elsewhere. 

How on earth was she supposed to get around him? How was she supposed to get close enough to do sufficient damage? If only she had the General's assistance...

Deciding it would be better to hide her gun for now, Riza placed it back into the holster and made sure her dress was smoothed over it and that her appearance was immaculate before stepping out of the shadows and strolling at a slow pace down the corridor. She wore a concerned expression on her face as she approached the burly man. 

"Erm... Excuse me, sir," she began, her voice slighter higher pitched than normal. She hated false pretence, but it was something she'd have to deal with for now."

"Are you alright, ma'am?" He asked. 

Unusually nice manners for a criminal, Riza scowled inwardly. 

"I've lost my... I've lost my room key," she replied. "I came down here earlier and thought I'd retrace my steps to find it. You haven't seen it have you?"

"I don't recall seeing any room key, ma'am," the man said with a shrug. "Sorry."

"Shame," she said, copying his shrug. In a split second, Riza pulled her gun out again and squeezed her finger against the trigger, sending a bullet towards the man's chest. He grunted and growled before falling to the floor in a muscular heap. 

She reloaded her gun and pressed her back against the wall on the other side of the doorway. There was the sound of muffled heavy footsteps and the rapid opening of the door to Room 27. Another man of the same clothes, yet of a skinnier build and lighter hair, appeared. He looked down on his dead friend before glancing down the left side of the corridor and then to the right. But he barely got the chance before Riza shot him too. His body crumpled next to the burly man's and she trod carefully over them, avoiding the blood that was spilling onto the carpeted floor. 

Room 27 was an mysterious place. It was darkened, the doors to the balcony were opened and the curtains were dancing in the night breeze, a fire was burning, which added more warmth to the evening. But where was Vanzetti?

"You insult me, intruder. Such a fine shot shouldn't have made such a mess of her kill."

Never mind. He was here. 

Georgio Vanzetti was sat in large armchair by the back wall of the room, behind Riza. He was around sixty years old with greying hair, a thick moustache and narrow blue eyes that were like knives stabbing into Riza's delicate skin. 

"What does it matter? Either way they up dead," she responded confidently, reloading her gun again and aiming it steadily at Vanzetti. 

Vanzetti laughed. "Wonderful! I can offer you a job simply based on your marksmanship and wit, my dear."

"Thanks, but not thanks. And don't call me 'dear', it's patronising."

The old man frowned. "I tried."

He rose from his seat and took a few paces forward, his gait short and his balance that wasn't too good. 

"Now, be continued. "I'm guessing you're with the military. They've been keeping tabs on me. I noticed one of yours- the grey-haired one- as I came in the hotel. See? I'm not that stupid or insolent."

"Nobody ever said you were," Riza said bitterly. She wanted to kill him too, but she had been specifically ordered to apprehend, not kill. 

Despite the old man's minor hobble, Vanzetti moved quickly. He almost knocked Riza over, but she regained herself and nimbly swerved away. 

"You're good considering you're wearing heels," he commented slyly. 

"They've never stopped me before," she retorted, kicking the bend in the back of Vanzetti's leg. He toppled to the floor with a cry, then turning on his back. A pistol had been whipped out from his pocket, he cocked it in the meantime and stared at Riza with evil eyes. 

"You thought I'd be an easy target, didn't you, my dear?" He sneered. "I think you'll be joining my bodyguards over there."

She kept quiet, her hands still tight on her gun. She felt her finger itching to pull the trigger, but resisted the urge. 

It didn't matter, though. Somehow, a bullet was always going to end up piercing Vanzetti's skin. He dropped his gun with a 'clang' when blood spurted from the back of his hand. The pain was electrifying. 

Riza ran to kick the weapon away, her own still aimed on the older man. 

"Captain, are you okay?"

Havoc jogged up to her. He injured Vanzetti and it just about saved her life. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered, listening to the dull moans escaping Vanzetti's lips as he writhed against the agony in his hand. 

Three MPs entered the room not long after Havoc, they arrested the criminal mastermind and shifted the bodies of his bodyguards. What a lot of use they were. 

Roy entered Room 27, panting and red in the face. He'd ran as fast as he could from the State ball to the hotel when he heard that Vanzetti had been arrested. 

"Mission complete, sir," Riza affirmed with a salute and a smile when she saw him. 

Relieved, he breathed out. "I'm just glad you're not hurt."

"Me too," she laughed nervously. Riza was pleased that this was all over in such a short amount of time. She could finally go home and rest, or return the the ball. Probably the latter; Rebecca would be wondering where she was. 

Now it was just Roy and Riza inside Room 27, along with a large amount of blood, a cosy fire, and the night air that floated in from outside.

Riza sighed exhaustedly, placing her gun back into the holster and sending a glance to Roy. "Are you alright, sir? You're staring."

"My queen deserves the attention, does she not?" He said, walking towards her. "Especially after putting her life on the line."

"Just another day at the office... My king," she replied, accepting Roy's warm embrace. His arms snaked around her waist and he buried his face into the crook of Riza's neck. 

"Thank you," he mumbled. "Amestris is in debt to you."

"Now, don't be silly."

"I'm serious," he muttered. "The most wanted criminal in the country has been arrested all thanks to you."

Riza smiled, satisfied with her day's work. She was glad to be of service to her country, but of course, it was all part of the job description. 

Roy pressed soft kisses where his face was buried. Riza shivered under his touch; every time he brushed her it was a cold reminder of the laws that hung over them and the burning love that they shared. 

He moved up her neck and before he got chance to kiss Riza's lips, she pressed a finger to his own. 

"Later, okay?" She whispered, a faint smile appearing in her faded-red lips. 

"Okay," Roy agreed reluctantly. 

One of his arms was still wrapped around her waist as they left they hotel. She needed such comfort after completing something so dangerous. 

"Do you think Rebecca will catch on to us?" She asked him as they re-entered the ball, the sea of people still refusing to die down. 

"Captain, I think she already has," came the mirthful reply. 

"Let's not make it too obvious then," Riza added, moving in such as way that her arm was now linked with Roy's. 

They exchanged a glance: one of happiness, knowingness, and sparked energy. Later, they'd finally get what they had both wanted for years- passionate kisses, fiery touches, and a whole lifetime of suppressed love. 

After all, what happens in Room 27, stays in Room 27...


End file.
